


Bumblebee Kisses

by composingofburlesquee



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Fluff, M/M, another gosh darn flower shop au, fluff with some plot, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-23 22:36:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8345416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/composingofburlesquee/pseuds/composingofburlesquee
Summary: “Four orchids, four petunias, and… your number?” the man at the counter requested slyly, leaning his elbow on the wood surface and resting his chin on his palm.





	

“Four orchids, four petunias, and… your number?” the man at the counter requested slyly, leaning his elbow on the wood surface and resting his chin on his palm.

Now, Ryan Ross was no stranger insufferable customers. People would enter the flower shop – lovingly named “The Pollinator’s Corner” by bee-enthusiast and owner Spencer Smith – with a derogatory comment on their tongues and most likely a fair-sized stick shoved up their asses. However this customer had come into the flower shop every Monday with too-tight skinny jeans and a terrible pickup line at the ready. Sometimes, he didn’t even buy any flowers, just came in to be annoying. Ryan knew better than to play along with his antics, so stuck to avoiding eye-contact with him and ignoring any and all attempts to flirt. He had to admit - the guy was cute. Almost cute enough to finally snap and give him what he wants, but Ryan knew his type. Looking for someone to toy with for a week, maybe less, then leave for another, better-looking victim. It was a terrible, terrible cycle that he most definitely did not want to be a part of.

Usually, he had simply let the flirting fly past him. Today, however, was not a good day. Ryan had slept through his alarm, arrived to work on time but in an awfully disheveled state, then had to cover for his co-worker who was ditching work to attend a concert with her friend. Ryan was tired, grumpy, and absolutely not having it.

“How about you take your flowers and fuck off,” Ryan grumbled, dragging himself to the back room with heavy feet. He pulled the requested flowers from the shelves and, pushing aside his attitude, delicately placed the flowers into a neat bouquet.

“That’ll be $6.50.” Ryan placed the bundle on the countertop and looked up to see… God damn it.

The guy looked incredibly distressed at Ryan’s passive-aggression, with eyes wide and nervous (but still smiling widely) as he handed over a ten dollar bill. Ryan narrowed his eyes as menacingly as he could muster and dropped the change on the counter in front of him. The man scooped up the change as well as his bouquet and hurried out of the store, bell jingling as the door closed shut. Ryan stared after him, almost feeling bad. He fought the urge to pinch himself, instead shaking his head furiously and returning to his work persona.

Flirty guy, to Ryan’s surprise, came to the shop the next Monday. Fortunately, Greta – Ryan’s co-worker who had ditched him the week before – was at the counter while he unboxed the new shipment of petunias. Ryan ducked further into the room, completely out of the guy’s line of sight. Greta called back to him for the flowers he wanted - hydrangea, yellow tulip, red tulip. He picked them out and handed them to her, eyes on the ground so not to make eye contact with the guy. He hurried back into the room as Greta rang up his selection. He heard the jingle of the bell at the door as the guy left, and loud footsteps as Greta strode into the room, expertly tossing the arrangement at Ryan.

“They’re for you, asshole,” she called as she walked out. “Don’t get too cocky.” 

Ryan stared after her, trying to make sense of the situation at hand. He stared at the odd choice of flowers. He looked at the tag on the stems. It read ‘-Brendon Urie’. _Does he actually like me?_ Ryan asked himself, before shaking his head and tossing the flowers next to his bag on the ground. He wouldn’t admit it, but he put them in a vase when he got back to his apartment.

A week later, ‘Brendon’ was as the shop. Ryan was ready to face whatever teasing would ensue.

“So?” Brendon grinned.

“So what?” Ryan replied irritably.

“Did you get them?”  
“If you mean the flowers, yes. I did indeed receive a hydrangea, and two different colored tulips.”

Brendon sighed.

“Yeah, but did you get the meaning?” he asked, folding his arms on the table. “You’re a flower dude or whatever, shouldn’t you know these things?”

“Just because I work at a flower shop doesn’t mean I know every damn thing about flowers, bucko.” Ryan glanced at the clock. His shift was nearly over.

“Well, since you didn’t look them up-”  
“How was I supposed to know that they-”

“Just listen for a minute!” Brendon burst out, then sighed again. “They hydrangea means perseverance, the yellow tulip means hopelessly in love, and the red tulip means declaration of love. Basically, I think you’re cute, if you haven’t gotten that from the endless flirting I’ve been shooting at you for about a month.”

Ryan raised his eyebrows. Brendan raised his in response.

One beat.

Two beats.

Three beats.

Snap.

Ryan snatched a pen from under the counter and wrote his number on a tag meant for the flowers, hands shaking. Brendon grinned when the slip was handed to him, studying it for a second before backing up slowly.

“See you around, Ryan!” He called, beginning to turn around.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” Ryan grumbled. This was going to be interesting.

 

That night, he received a text.

**Unknown number: heyyyyyy ryan this is brendon**

Ryan furrowed his brows at the obvious lack of grammar and disregard for capitalization.

_Ryan: Was that many ‘y’s really necessary?_

**Unknown number: every y you add to hey is another layer of depression**

**Unknown number: sry that was uncalled for**

**Unknown number: anyways do you want to go on a date maybe on friday**

**Unknown number: or not idk im getting mixed signals from u, ryan ross**

_Ryan: Um_

_Ryan: How do you know my last name?_

**Unknown number: your avoiding the question**

_Ryan: It’s *you’re, you uncultured swine._

**Unknown number: oh so ur a grammar nazi. disregard my offer.**

_Ryan: I’m free Friday after 4:00._

**Unknown number: lmao**

**Unknown number: wait you're serious**

**Unknown number: omg i didnt actually expect you to accept**

**Unknown number: im honored, ryan ross**

_Ryan: I’m going to sleep. Don’t get too excited, I’m really not a fantastic person._

Ryan shut off his phone and clambered into bed, closing his eyes. His phone buzzed a few times before stopping, and he fell asleep quickly.

_It’s Friday,_ Ryan thought. _I’m actually going to die._

“Hell yeah, you are,” Greta said.

“Did I say that out loud?” Ryan groaned.

“Hell yeah, you did!” Greta laughed. “Just… try to be less of an asshole than usual.”

“That’s not-” Ryan started, cut off by the door opening.

“Ryan Ross!” Shouted the figure in the doorway who was most certainly Brendon Urie.

“God damn it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“If I didn’t love the beach, I would have up and left by now.” Ryan mentioned as Brendon dragged him across the sand by his wrist.

“What do you mean?”

“Are you kidding me? This is actually the cheesiest date cliche ever.”

Brendon shrugged and then stopped abruptly as they came across a plethora of boulders overlooking the water. He climbed up the pile to one of the higher rocks, finding a comfortable place to sit, then motioned for Ryan to follow.

“I’m not going up there. I’ll break my legs.” Ryan crossed his arms stubbornly.

“You’ll be fine,” Brendon held out his hand. “I’ll help you up when you get close!”

Ryan rolled his eyes and began to make his way up the boulders. He reached Brendon’s spot on the boulders and plopped down next to him.

“See? Look how pretty the sunset is!” Brendon chirped.

“It’s nice,” Ryan said softly, glancing at him. Man, Brendon was really attractive. He didn’t know how he managed to ignore the incessant flirting.

“So, tell me about yourself, Ryan.”

"Well, I like music and stuff..." 

The conversation ensued as the sun went down. The sky turned a deep, velvety blue as the stars began to dot the sky like sprinkles. Ryan hardly noticed himself leaning closer to Brendon as the chilly night air enveloped them.

“So that’s when Jon brought out the ukelele and - hey, are you alright? You look cold.” Brendon furrowed his eyebrows.

“I’m fine. Finish the story, you dork!” Ryan exclaimed.

“Are you sure? Because I can-” Brendon stopped abruptly.

“What?” Ryan asked impatiently.

One beat.

Two beats.

Three beats.

Snap.

Brendon grabbed the sides of Ryan’s face and brought their lips together in one swooping motion, eyes closed and lashes fluttering gently against Ryan’s cheeks. Ryan felt his face grow hot and a swarm of bumblebees erupted in his stomach. He’d never been kissed before, what the hell was he supposed to do? Of course he panicked. Of course he pushed Brendon away and nearly fell off of the rocks while trying to back away. Of course he turned away from Brendon’s horrified and guilty face, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt water build in his eyes. He didn’t hear Brendon call his name until he put a gentle hand on Ryan’s shoulder. Ryan lifted his face but not his eyes as Brendon spilled out apologies. Ryan heard none of them, just rested his head on Brendon’s shoulder, clutching the sleeve of his jacket. Brendon stilled, and the air was quiet for a minute.

“I’m sorry,” Ryan whispered. “I’ve never-”

“No, I should have asked. I’m sorry, I-” Brendan interrupted frantically.

“Don’t be.” Ryan sighed. He raised his head to meet Brendon’s eyes (which, Ryan noticed, were super pretty) and held his gaze for a minute before pressing their lips together in a burst of bravery. Brendon melted into the touch and grazed his fingertips across Ryan’s jawline, cupping his cheek. Ryan still had no idea what to do, so he let Brendon lead the kiss, shuddering when his teeth grazed Ryan’s lower lip. Brendon leaned back slightly, only to press a soft kiss on Ryan’s cheek, and then another just under his ear, and then three more down his jaw. Ryan smiled, letting Brendon bury his face into the crook of his neck.

Yeah. It was still cold out. The stars were dull and their numbers were few due to light pollution. The air smelled like dead fish and salt and Ryan couldn't be happier. He wrapped his arms around Brendan and took a deep breath.

Bumblebee kisses.

Nectar-sweet and colorful. Pale yellow. Quarter moon, cold air, E minor.

**Author's Note:**

> Alright!!! I wrote this late at night, proofread it twice, and this is probably the first time I've written anything romantic so I apologize for any mistakes or anything overly stupid that I was oblivious to!


End file.
